


Walk like a Courier

by bela013



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bela013/pseuds/bela013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles about the Courier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk like a Courier

**Author's Note:**

> While I'm only going to write about one single Courier, I have some short stuff about different factions, so it will be said on the tittle of the chapter, the city it's on, and the faction the Courier is associated in that particular chapter if relevant to it.

She tried to tell herself that it was normal for a person had her memories lead out of her head to be confused. And that is was also normal to laugh at your own puns. After all, she was entitled to some privileges after Checkers shot her, and made her forget most of the things about her.

After helping the people from Goodsprings get rid of those bomb people, the Courier started making plans for her trip. Doc had said to be careful the last time she saw him, that she might want to try and jog her memories, but not to overdue. He was a nice mister, so she hid some caps around his house, a way to repay him, nothing to big for him to take notice, but enough to sate her conscience. And that's how she found herself at the cemetery, doing what the doctor proscribed, but not exactly.

Books and guns weren't enough. Magazines helped some, flashing information she once mastered but forgot. It was all muscular, easier to remember the motion of picking a lock than her own name. So she climbed the small hill once more, the bloatflies that she killed while picking those flowers for Sunny were still there, dead. So was her grave, open and warm due to the sun.

Sitting on the dirt was comforting in a way, it was better than the mattress she found on the trailer at the city. And even with the sun, it was easy to close her eyes and forget, only to wake up for what seamed to be much later, after all, the sun was still up when she dozed off, and now it was almost too hard to see. The squeaky sound that woke her up was getting closer, with it, came the cowboy who saved her, and his light up monitor.

The robot offered her one of his big metal claws, and she accepted. She spent too long on her grave. It was time to move on. So she went down the hill, seeing as the cowboy shot a wandering radscorp, and lead her back to his shack. It was cold inside, and the mattress was uneven. But she needed her revenge, and she needed to rest properly to get it.

Closing her eyes and picturing the cowboy robot with a little sleeping cap, trying to get comfortable on his lumpy bed, the bed he so gentlemanly offered to her, together with the privacy of his shack, the Courier falls asleep.


End file.
